


Goddess of Passion

by Hollow_Eve



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys Love - Freeform, Dorms, F/M, Fluff, Goddess, M/M, Passion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollow_Eve/pseuds/Hollow_Eve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the World Academy, there is a shrine which houses a deity of passion. Elizaveta passes her eternal life by helping the students confess their love for one another. She didn't set out to also solve personal problems, but when they interfere with love, she'll stomp them out as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prussia's Painter

Anyone who looked at the World Academy could see it was… odd. Consisting of only foreign students, locals couldn’t wrap their heads around why a school had been built on the Hungarian mountainside at all.

But despite it’s odd students, it was the school’s facilities that made up the oddest features. All classes were self-study, since not everyone spoke the same language. There were no school clubs, rather students were permitted to do whatever they wished after classes had concluded. All students had to stay in the dorms, which was co-ed despite the school only having a handful of female students.

It was an odd school with odd students and odd facilities. But any student would agree that the oddest part of the school was the small shrine located on the path between the school and the dorms.

Modeled after a Japanese deity shrine, it was simple in it’s elegance. No one knew what type of deity supposedly lived in it, and no one really cared. Most students just ignored the small structure, while others dared their friends to mess with it. If only they knew who they were messing with.

 

Gilbert had been dared to spray-paint the shrine green by his friends. He would have done it, too. But he’d been stopped by the stuck-up Roderich with the shaken bottle in his hand.

“And who do you think has to clean up these pranks?” Roderich reprimanded his albino classmate.

“Don’t care.” Gilbert sneered. “All I know is it’s not me.”

“Don’t cause trouble for other people.” The Austrian stepped up and grabbed for the paint can, but Gilbert held it away. “Give that to me.”

“No way!” the albino laughed.

Roderich stepped closer, trying to take the can. Gilbert held it further away. His arms were longer, so there was no way the annoying prick would get it.

Unfortunately, Gilbert stumbled over the corner of the shrine. He fell backwards, frantically grabbing for something to hold him up. All his hand found was Roderich, who fell on top of him.

/Ow!/ Gilbert dropped the paint and rubbed his head. He opened his eyes and saw that Roderich was lying on top of him in a compromising position. Gilbert blushed, not because he liked the Austrian, but because it was no secret Roderich had once liked /him/.

/Get off me!/ Gilbert panicked. He looked around frantically for something to aid him, but froze when he saw a girl standing behind the shrine.

Her long brown hair was held back by a flowered hairpin and she wore a green dress instead of their school uniform. Gilbert didn’t recognise her, which was odd. With only a few female students, he should have remembered seeing her around.

She gave him an unsettling grin before walking over. “Boy troubles?” she giggled.

“As if!” Gilbert yelled. He looked down at the Austrian and saw that he’d been knocked unconscious. His head rested on Gilbert’s chest and his arm was sprawled to the side, still reached for the paint. “Just get him off of me!” Gilbert turned back to the girl.

She was pouting, but helped to gently move Roderich to the side. “Too bad.” She mused. “He’d probably make a good boyfriend.”

Gilbert sneered. “Yeah, if you like the uptight type.”

The girl just shook her head. “He’s not uptight. He’s caring.” She turned her attention on the albino. “I watch everyone who walks on this path. I can see what they’re like and know who they love.”

Gilbert edged away, a bit scared, not that he’d ever admit it. “And just who are you?”

“Elizaveta.” She pointed at the shrine. “I’m the goddess here.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “I’m a goddess of passion.”

Gilbert backed away noticeably this time. Either she was crazy, or she was dangerous. He didn’t want to stick around to find out which. “Whatever you say.” He dismissed her. “Just take him to the dorms.” He scrambled to his feet and ran back toward the school.

Once he was outside the art room, he stopped to catch his breath. /Just who was she?/ He asked himself. He’d thought he knew the names of all the girls in school, but her’s didn’t sound familiar.

He was deep in his thought, so when the door to the art room opened, he jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry.” An unassuming boy adjusted his glasses nervously. “I didn’t realize someone was out here.”

Gilbert had seen the boy around school, but couldn’t remember his name. Most people knew him as the quiet tag along to the rambunctious Alfred. It was rare to see him alone like this.

The albino quickly looked away. “Whatever.” He blushed. “Not your fault.”

His eyes widened when he saw Elizaveta down the hall. /You like him!/ She mouthed excitedly.

The boy shifted his weight and looked at his shoes. “Sorry.” He apologized again. He fiddled with the hem of his sweater and glanced around them, but made no move of leaving. “Did you need more paint?”

“What?” Gilbert snapped his attention back to the boy. “What are you talking about?”

The boy stepped backwards. “Sorry!” he said again. “I saw you grab a can of paint earlier.” He explained quickly. “You looked like you were in a hurry, so I didn’t say anything.”

/He was there?!/ Gilbert hadn’t seen anyone in the room when he’d taken the spray paint twenty minutes prior. “No.” he replied. “I don’t need any more.”

“Oh.” The boy shifted on his feet again. “Did you… need something else.”

“You.” Gilbert heard his voice, but he hadn’t spoken. He looked to the side and saw Elizaveta had gotten closer and was speaking through cupped hands.

“Huh?!” The boy backed up into the art room and laughed nervously. “That’s a joke, right? It’s funny.”

Gilbert watched in horror as Elizaveta slowly raised her hand and snapped her fingers, all the while a grin spreading on her face.

The boy began fidgeting as though he needed the bathroom, but still made no move to leave. “I…uh…I just finished a painting, if you wanted to take a look.” He blushed and turned around. “That is, if you aren’t busy.”

/What’s she doing to him?/ Gilbert stared in horror as the boy tugged his sweater lower on his torso. His heart started beating faster, but he tried to ignore it.

“I…I get that you’re busy.” The boy continued. “You probably have people waiting for you.”

“Not really.” Gilbert scratched the back of his neck, trying to ignore the blush on his cheeks. /What was his name?/ He berated himself.

As if he could here his thoughts, the boy chuckled softly. “You probably don’t even know who I am.” He laughed at himself. “Why would you? We don’t hang out with the same people.”

“Matthew.” Elizaveta spoke in Gilbert’s voice again. She nudged the albino into the room and closed the door behind him, flashing him a thumbs up.

The boy jumped at the sound of the door and briskly walked to the easel that was propped up in the middle of the room. “You actually know my name?” His hands flew around the paint ledge, picking up brushes and tubes of oil paint. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Gilbert walked over to the easel when Matthew was at the cupboards replacing his supplies. He was taken aback by the painting he saw.

It was him, napping at the base of a tree. Yellow birds flocked around him, one even perching on his head. It was an excellent painting. If Gilbert had been in his usual mood, he’d have said it captured his awesomeness perfectly.

“Do you like it?” Matthew said quietly behind him. Gilbert nodded and the boy smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Matthew…” The albino ventured timidly. “Do you…like me?”

“Huh? I…well…I…um…” the boy stammered before bowing his head. “I’m sorry!” he sobbed. “I’m sorry! It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have painted that.” He grabbed the edges of the canvas. “I’ll get rid of it!”

Gilbert grabbed the boy’s hands to stop him. “Don’t.” He leaned closer. “I think I might like you, too.” It was a lie. He definitely liked the timid boy.

“Oh.” Matthew blushed and shifted his weight again. “Okay.” He released his hands from the canvas, but Gilbert held his in place. “Um, Gilbert?”

/Thank you, Elizaveta./ He found himself thinking. /Thanks for the opportunity./ Damn, he was being mushy. “I like you, Mattie.” He amended. “I definitely like you.” He turned the other boy around in his arms.

Matthew’s face was bright red, but he was smiling. “Um, I was wondering…” he trailed off, then tried again. “Could I paint you again?”

Gilbert returned the smile. “Anytime.” He leaned down and gave the smaller boy a kiss.

On the other side of the door, Elizaveta smiled. “Another happy couple.” She sauntered down the hall and back to her shrine. Roderich was still napping, so she sat beside him and looked up at the sky. “What a strange school.” She laughed.


	2. Romano's Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: things get dark.

Lovino glared at the tall German walking hand in hand with his brother. “Hey!” He called after them. He rushed forward and ripped them apart. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Ludwig stepped back, surprised. “We were walking to class.”

“Hand in hand?!” Lovino continued yelling. “Like lovebirds?!”

“But, Lovi,” Feliciano tried to calm his brother, “we are lovebirds.”

Both Lovino and Ludwig blushed deeply at his declaration. Lovino grabbed his brother’s arm and walked briskly down the hall. “This isn’t over, bastard!” he called over his shoulder.

“Lovi~!” Feliciano flailed his free arm frantically. “We passed the classroom~!”

Lovino would never admit it, but he was happy for his brother. After what had happened to them as kids, he was glad Feliciano could still fall in love. /But why a dude?/ He grit his teeth and walked faster.

“Lovi~!” Feliciano continued to cry. “My class~!”

/It’s just us./ Lovino reminded himself. /We can’t trust anyone else./

“Brother!”

Lovino stopped in his tracks, his brother’s cry triggering old memories. The hands that grabbed them, the eyes that stared at them, the laughs—

He released is brother’s arm and turned to face him. “Sorry.” He apologized. “I went too far.”

Feliciano just grinned stupidly. “Ludwig’s used to it by now.” He laughed good-naturedly. “But we went right past the classroom.” He led the way back, but stopped outside the door. “You still have nightmares.”

Lovino glared at his feet. “Shut up.” He reached past and opened the door. “Get in before we’re late.”

 

After classes were over, Feliciano skipped to the cooking room. He always cooked something for them to eat in the dorms, since Lovino didn’t trust anyone else.

Lovino waited for his brother on the lawn. He glared absentmindedly at the small shrine that no one really noticed anymore. Feliciano had prayed to it when they’d first arrived at the school, but that had been before he’d started dating Ludwig.

He watched a girl as she cleaned the shrine. She hummed to herself as she worked.

“See ya, Antonio!” Someone called to their friend.

Lovino bristled with anger at the name. He wished he’d brought a book or something to hide behind as the boy in question walked past.

“Oh, Lovino, good evening.” The Spanish boy sat beside him uninvited. “Waiting for your brother?”

Lovino ignored him, pretending to be fascinated with the girl cleaning the shrine. Antonio followed his gaze and frowned.

“She’s at it again?” He sighed.

“You know her?” Lovino asked, then remembered he was ignoring the other boy and turned away.

“Not really.” Antonio laughed. “She doesn’t go to classes. She just cleans that shrine. Must be important to her.”

The girl must have heard him, because she looked over and waved. Antonio, being the annoyingly nice guy that he way, waved back.

“You like her, huh?” Lovino made a move to tease the older boy, but the response he got shook him.

“I don’t like girls.” Antonio stated. “They’re nice enough, but I’m just not interested.”

Lovino involuntarily shook with fear. He wasn’t homophobic by the social definition, but he did have a deep-set fear for the tendency. He didn’t hate people who were gay, he was just afraid of gay men who were larger than him.

Who could push him down.

And restrain him.

And—

Lovino jumped to his feet and ran. He didn’t care where he was going, just that Antonio wasn’t there. He didn’t need anyone. He could take care of himself and his brother. He kept running until he reached the road that would take him away from the school.

He froze. He couldn’t leave. Not without Feliciano.

/Let the German take care of him./ Lovino forced himself to think. /He’s not scared anymore. He doesn’t need me./ He walked out onto the road, but someone pulled him back.

Lovino turned around, expecting to see Antonio holding his arm, a smirk on the boys face as he—

The girl from the shrine held his hand as she continued to pull him back to the school. Up close, she was rather pretty. Lovino thought she looked like a mother from a fairy-tale. One of the good ones who die before the beginning and her spirit aids the damsel on her journey.

Then she turned the corner he’d just run around and he changed his mind. She was the evil witch who tricks the damsel into trusting her, then stabs her in the back.

Lovino realized that, in his thoughts, he was the damsel. He chided himself, reminding himself that he was just a victim, not a defenseless child. Not anymore.

He could fight. He would fight. Even if this girl helped Antonio and held him down, he wouldn’t let them win. He would protect himself. He would protect—

Feliciano was sitting on the lawn beside Antonio, a container of food beside him. He was laughing at something the Spaniard had said. He looked as carefree as ever.

Antonio laughed, too, and placed a hand on the Italian’s shoulder. Lovino was glad when he saw his brother flinch away.

/Wait./ He realized what he’d just felt. /Why am I glad that he’s scared?/ He slowed his pace, but the girl was still pulling him and he fell on his face.

“Lovi!” He heard Feliciano call out and footsteps running closer.

/My brother’s the only one who cares about me./ Lovino reminded himself. /He’s all I have left./ Then, a thought he didn’t want to admit. /I don’t want to give him away./

Tears rolled from his eyes as his brother helped him to his feet. He didn’t want to admit it. He really didn’t. But it was he who needed Feliciano, not the reverse. He wiped his eyes and looked up to thank his brother.

Except, Feliciano was still by the shrine, telling Ludwig what had just happened. It was Antonio who was holding him upright.

“Are you hurt?” The Spaniard sounded genuinely worried. “You’re crying! Where does it hurt?” He started patting the smaller boy’s arms, his shoulders, his knees.

Antonio froze, then slowly straightened. “Sorry.” He said softly. “I probably gross you out.” He looked away, sadness in his eyes. “Your brother told me how much you hate him dating Ludwig.”

Over Antonio’s shoulder, Lovino saw the girl slowly raise her hand and snap her fingers. At once, he felt as if everything would be okay, that he could speak from his heart and no one would laugh at him. He looked at his brother, looking so happy in the German’s arms.

“Did he tell you why?” Lovino ventured.

The Spaniard shook his head. “He wanted to, but it’s none of my business.”

“We were abducted.” He said quickly. He knew Feliciano had already told Ludwig. He knew that was the reason he was always around, ready for a fight. “We were just kids.”

Lovino recounted the story. Of how they were locked in a basement for almost two years. About the beatings. About the torture. About the—

He took a deep breath. “We were raped.”

He watched as Antonio’s expression turned from concern to shock to anger. “Bastards!” He screamed before pulling Lovino into a tight hug. The Italian expected to hate it, to recoil from the foreign touch. But he found himself melting in the man’s strong arms. He felt safe.

And he felt better after telling someone. There was an unspoken rule between him and his brother that they never talk about what happened. All those years of silence had eaten away at him. He should have told someone sooner.

Something warm hit his shoulder and he realized Antonio was crying.

“I’m sorry.” He blubbered. “I shouldn’t be holding you like this, but I can’t let go.”

“Then don’t, you big baby.” Lovino grumbled. He hugged the man back and waited while he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if something like this has happened to you or someone you know, talk it out. A weight will be lifted. If you say nothing, they win.


	3. Sealand's Secret

Peter sighed heavily. He had enrolled in the academy because all three of his older brothers were there. He hadn’t been expecting to fall in love with a girl named Wendy, but he had. He hadn’t been expecting to become friends with the shy boy in his class, but he had. And he hadn’t been expecting to be betrayed by both of them, but he had.

He glared unhappily at his ‘friend’, Raivis. He seemed to be constantly shaking, which made most of their classmates avoid him. But Peter was used to it. Though not as bad, his brother Matthew was timid and shy as well.

Peter had grown up learning how to deal with boys like Raivis. What he hadn’t learned was how to deal with rejection. His eldest brother, Arthur, had always been the one rejecting admirers, while Alfred had always been popular with girls. And Matthew had been too shy to even talk to a girl.

Raivis must have felt Peter’s eyes on him, because he turned around and gave a small wave. Peter pulled his math book closer and pretended to be studying until the other boy looked away.

He didn’t like being jealous and he didn’t like being mad at Raivis. As far as he knew, he was the shy boy’s only friend.

He sighed again. /I need to talk to Matthew./ He decided.

Despite his brother’s timid nature, he was the only one out of the four brothers to have a significant other. Even if that other was another man, it was still more than any of them had.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Peter quickly packed up his books and left the room before Raivis could stop him. He rushed to the art room, knowing Matthew always painted after classes.

But in his race to see his brother, Peter had forgotten about the object of his frustrations.

Wendy sat at an easel, painting with her eyes closed. She wasn’t blind, but it was her creative process to paint as if she was. Peter froze, fascinated. He loved watching her paint. It was one of the things that had attracted him to her.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Matthew smiling down at him. He was carrying a box of oil paints, most likely new materials for the room.

“Hi, Peter.” His brother greeted him, nodding with his chin into the room. “Come on in.”

Peter stepped in and to the side so that Matthew could pass him. Wendy, having heard their exchange at the door, had put down her brush and was smiling at them. “It’s rare to see you here.” She giggled. “Matthew says you’ve been behind in your studies.”

Peter blushed and glared at his brother. “I’m doing fine.” He grumbled. “It’s just that Arthur thinks I could do better.”

Wendy nodded in understanding, her thick ponytail bouncing beside her face. “Jett says the same thing to me. It must be an older brother thing.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. They just had so much in common. Before things got awkward, they could talk about nothing for hours. She would close her eyes and paint the stories he would tell her.

After Matthew had put the supplies away, he set up an easel for himself and pulled a half-finished painting off the racks that lined one wall. He set it on his easel with great care, more care than Peter had ever seen from him before.

Peter narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Matthew, can I ask you a question?”

“Oh, this sounds serious.” Wendy giggled and hopped off her stool. “I’ll give you two a moment.” She left the room and Peter closed the door behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked, setting up his pallet.

Peter drew a breath and blurted out the first question that formed in his mind. “Does love hurt?”

Matthew dropped the tube of paint he was holding, his face turning red. “Wha…what do you mean?”

The younger boy brought his hands up to his heart. “There’s an ache in my chest and I think it might be love. But all the books I read say that love is a warm feeling that makes you feel good. So why does it hurt?”

Matthew sighed in relief and picked up his paint. “Believe me, that’s love.” He smiled at his canvas. “It’s the feeling that pushes you to speak your mind. It’s painful, but only if you let it sit.”

Peter scowled at his brother’s back. It was easy for him to say those things. His feelings had been returned. But Peter knew that, if he said anything, his short friendship with Wendy would be over.

“But what if you can’t say anything?” He asked quietly.

Matthew stopped painting and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

Peter shook his head. “Forget it. I’ll… figure it out.” He said before running out the door.  
Wendy was standing outside, leaning on the window across the hall. She waved at him, but he ignored her. He had planned to run back to his dorm room, but he tripped over a branch on the grass and fell.

Holding back tears, he pulled himself up and sat still. He didn’t know what to do. Matthew wouldn’t understand and his other brothers would just tell him to tell her.

“What should I do?” He asked the world, looking up.

The mysterious shrine sat before him. A girl stood beside it, looking down at him. She wasn’t wearing the school’s uniform and Peter thought she might be a maid from the smock she was wearing.

She gave him a smile and walked over, extending a hand to him. “You okay?”

He reluctantly accepted her help. “Thanks.” When he was back on his feet, she shook his hand.

“I’m Elizaveta.” She introduced herself. “I’m here to help you.”

Peter choked back a laugh. “What?”

“You’re Peter Jones, right? You’re in love with your friend.” She turned him around and nudged him back toward the school. “I’m going to help you tell her how you feel.”

Peter dug his heels in the ground. “I’m not going to tell her!” He protested. “She likes Raivis!”

The girl giggled. “And you know this how?” She shoved him forward and he stumbled.

“I saw them!” He shouted, turning on her. “I saw them talking and laughing!”

Elizaveta smiled mischievously. “But you do like her, right.” She raised her hand, fingers ready to snap. “All I have to do is snap my fingers and you’ll have no problem telling her.”

Peter grabbed her hand. “Then don’t.”

She blinked, surprised. “You believe me?”

“My brother likes black magic.” Peter told her, looking around her at the shrine. “If you’re lying, then nothing will happen. If you’re telling the truth, then I don’t want it.”

Elizaveta laughed and patted his head. “Don’t let it sit.” She stepped back to the shrine and, looking back at him pointedly, faded away.

/Don’t let it sit./ Matthew had said the same thing.

Taking a deep breath, Peter spun on his heels and walked briskly back to the art room. He threw the door open and three heads turned to him.

Raivis stood behind Wendy, looking over her shoulder as she painted, while Matthew stood in front of his canvas, a jar of finishing varnish in his hand. “Peter?” Raivis asked. “What’s wrong?”

Peter hesitated for half a second when he saw Raivis. Regaining his resolve, he walked up to his friends.

He didn’t need a spirit to help him. He could do this on his own. He was scared, sure, but being rejected would hurt far less than letting the feeling sit and fester in his heart.

“Peter?” Wendy said when he stopped in front of her stool.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly before placing his hands on her cheeks and bending down to kiss her. He knew she never wore lip gloss, but her lips tasted like apples and cinnamon. She must have had apple pie with her lunch.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeated, pulling away. “But I had to.”

She stared at him, a blush spreading across her face. “Don’t be sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But… you two…” Peter looked between his two friends.

Raivis laughed, completely out of character for the quiet boy. “What? No.”

“But I saw you.” Peter protested. “Last Wednesday. It looked like you were planning a date.”

Wendy took Peter’s hands in her own and looked into his eyes. “Peter, I was asking him for advise.” Her blush grew deeper as she got more embarrassed. “I… I wanted to ask you out. I like you.”

Peter looked to Raivis for confirmation. The boy smiled and nodded at them. “Just don’t forget me, okay.”

“Never.” Peter and Wendy said together, then laughed.

Out on the lawn, Elizaveta heard the laughter and smiled. She enjoyed using her powers to help people, but she enjoyed it even more when they didn’t need her to. If even just her presence could encourage them, she was glad.

She sighed and turned back to cleaning her shrine.

Footsteps behind her announced someone was approaching. When she turned around again, she saw Roderich standing a few feet from her. She smiled, but he dashed away toward the dorms.

She giggled to herself. /Maybe I should help him next./ She thought, turning back to her shrine. /He obviously needs it./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the classic love confusions, and it was fun to have Sealand struggle with it since he's always so happy-go-lucky.  
> In no way am I done with is group, so stay tuned.


End file.
